Just Thinking
by Sam Davidson
Summary: Some very short reflections by assorted characters. Just what the title says.
1. Harry

Just Thinking

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Her Highness Rowling owns it all

**************

The bell rang, sounding muffled from within the confines of the Divination classroom in the North Tower. Harry lifted his head from where it had been in danger of falling into his teapot and blinked slowly.

//It must be the end of class.//

He dragged himself up out of the deep armchair, threw his books, quills and parchment in to his bag, and made his way to the circular trapdoor opening in the floor. He reached the portrait of the Fat Lady at the same time as a group of first years who seemed to be making as much noise as a room full of Cornish pixies.

//On second thought, maybe I won't get a head start on my homework.//

He turned away from the portrait and headed down to the entrance hall, through the great front doors and outside. As he stepped outside a gust of frigid air greeted him, and he pulled his cloak tight around his body. Then he crunched his way across the new fallen snow to the edge of the lake and sat down, dumping his bag beside him.

//Don't tell me you're letting Trelawney's death omens get to you. You remember what Ron said. If you had died every time she said you would, you'd be some kind of super-concentrated ghost. You're alive- enjoy it!//

//That's only one little part of it and you know it. It wouldn't be that different if she were predicting that I'd fall in love with Pansy Parkinson.//

//Ugh! Fall in love with Pansy Parkinson? What made you think of that?//

//Shut up. It's just that it's always me: Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. I live through the infallible killing surse, end up with a permanent scar on my head, get picked to be the youngest Seeker in a hundred years…//

//Oh, don't get started.//

//Too late. I almost get killed by a bat in a pillowcase, come across a diary that tells me about the Camber of Secrets, find out my godfather is a wrongly convicted mass murderer, get entered into the Triwizard Tournament and forced to win it…//

Harry let out a sigh as he dropped his head back and stared at the pale gray sky.

//Are you quite finished?//

//Yes, I suppose. Oh, by the way, did I mention that because of all this I am the number one target of the most powerful Dark wizard in recent history? Yep, that too.//

//Ah. I see. And all of this just *happened* to you? Just fell right into your lap?//

//Well… yes. I sure as hell didn't invite it.//

//But you do have certain tendencies… How did Dumbledore put it? "A certain disregard for the rules."//

//No! This isn't my fault! I would give anything to be *normal*. To think of Hogwarts as just a school, not a safe haven from the Dark Lord. To go home each summer to a place like the Burrow where I'm not treated like the scum of the earth. To never hear Malfoy or Snape to taunt me about being "famous Harry Potter" ever, ever again.//

"Hey, Harry!"

"Hmnh. What?"

Colin was standing over him, face flushed with the cold.

"Harry, I've been looking all over for you! You're missing dinner, and I know how much you like their meat pies. Why don't you have a hat on? You must be freezing. What have you been doing out here?"

Harry looked up at his bright face, envying the fact that it had nothing more important to think about than the meat pies they were serving for dinner.

"Just thinking."

************

Sam Davidson


	2. Ron

Just Thinking

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Her Highness Rowling owns it all

Part II

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"Ron, I can't make it to watch Harry this afternoon. Professor Vector just assigned a *huge* essay and I need to get a head start on it," Hermione said as they arrived back in the Gryffindor common room after the last class of the day. She dropped her books onto a table and herself into an armchair by the fire.

"Alright," said Ron. "I'll see you later." He climbed the spiral staircase to his dormitory, threw his books onto his bed, and then made his way back out through the portrait hole, down the marble staircase, and out the front doors. It was only snowing lightly but the air was very cold, and he pulled his cloak tightly around himself as he walked down to the Quidditch pitch. 

He climbed slowly up the wooden staircase underneath the stands, pausing for a moment at the top to enjoy what little warmth there was before moving out into the cold air again. He chose a seat at the front and pulled his legs up under his cloak, trying to conserve as much heat as possible. The Gryffindor team was already in the air, playing a practice match. One team wore blue stars on the front and back of their usual scarlet Quidditch robes to distinguish them from the others. Ron could just make out Harry through the snow, circling slowly high above the rest of the game. Harry didn't notice him.

//Typical. I really needn't have come, seeing as he doesn't see me and I can barely see him.//

//But you always come to watch him practice.//

//Why's that?//

//Tradition?//

//Oh, come on. You can do better than that.//

//Honestly, I can't. If you're so smart, why don't you tell me?//

//You want it.//

//Want what? What are you talking about?//

//You know exactly what I'm talking about. You want to be like him. Youngest Seeker in a hundred years, name known by everyone in the wizarding world… //

//Mortal enemy of a really dangerous dark wizard, butt of half the jokes that come out of a Slytherin's mouth, a real knack for getting seriously injured at least once a year… Did you forget to mention those?//

//No, I didn't, but I think that you-//

//I'm his friend, that's all. I wouldn't want to be in his shoes.//

//I don't believe that for a minute, Ron Weasley. If you had the opportunity to change places with him, you'd do it in a heartbeat. It's not easy being the youngest of six brothers, is it? You're never going to be as good at Quidditch as Charlie, or as cool as Bill, or as smart as Percy-//

//I wouldn't want to be as *anything* as Percy.//

//Point well taken. But anyways, you'll never be as funny as Fred and George either. What's left? Everything you can do's been done before. But Harry, ah, no one else can cast a shadow big enough for him to fit under. No, he's larger than life, and you'd die to be that way too.//

"Hey Ron, what are you doing up here?" Ron blinked, looked up, and noticed that the air was now absent of scarlet robes. "Practice was over five minutes ago." He turned to look where the voice was coming from. There was Harry, standing in the highest row, near the top of the stairs. He was silhouetted against the snow-white sky, his robes lit up by the fiery light of the setting sun, looking like a god among mortals.

"Just thinking."

************

Sam Davidson


	3. Hermione

Just Thinking

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Her Highness Rowling owns it all

Part III

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The bell rang, and Hermione stomped out of her History of Magic class. She couldn't believe it! How could Professor Binns not even *mention* the Goblin Treaty of 1632?! She had spent *hours* reviewing its finer points, such as the precise locations of the "autonomous zones", far away from humans, where goblins were still permitted to live in their traditional fashion. She headed for the Gryffindor dormitory. How could he?!

//Oh come on, Hermione, give it a break.//

//I will not! That was an extremely important treaty. It is a prime example of the way in which wizard treatment of magical creatures has become more humane over the years.//

//Oh for the love of God, don't use that voice with me.//

//What voice?//

//You know. The I'm-answering-a-question-in-class-so-I'm-going-to-sound-all-smart-and-superior-as-if-I've-just-swallowed-the-whole-bloody-textbook voice.//

//Hmph! Well, it was an important treaty. Not that we don't have a long way to go still with magical creatures' rights, such as, say, HOUSE ELVES.//

At this point Hermione realized she had walked right past the portrait of the Fat Lady, and had to backtrack halfway down the corridor. She said the password, and the portrait swung out, admitting her to the common room. She headed straight up to her dormitory and lay down on her bed.

//So tell me, Hermione, why *are* you such a prig?//

//??!//

//Everyone says you are, they can't be all wrong… //

//I choose to take my education seriously. Is that suddenly a crime? If other people feel like wasting their- //

//Eh, eh. Voice… //

//Fine! I'm only saying that it's my business how I decide to spend my time.//

//Hermione, there is more to your life that your education.//

//But I need to learn as much as I can in order to- //

//Don't even go there. If you did half the work you currently do from now until seventh year, you would probably still be named Head Girl. You can afford to slow down a little. Spend less time in the library and more with your friends.//

//But I don't know *how*.//

"Hermione! Can I believe my eyes? Hey, Lavender, come look!" Parvati called across the room. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime sight: Hermione isn't studying! What *are* you doing?

"Just thinking."

************

Sam Davidson


	4. Neville

Just Thinking

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Her Highness Rowling owns it all

Part IV

**************

Why wasn't the potion purple? It was supposed to be purple. Hermione's was purple, Neville could see over her shoulder. His potion was, well, the color of vomit, and frankly his stomach felt like he could add a little more to the cauldron at any moment. Snape was making his way down the row of students toward him, and as the sneering face got closer Neville's vision started to cloud. Snape paused longer than usual at Hermione's cauldron, trying desperately to find something wrong with it. This turned out to be Neville's saving grace, for just as Snape was finishing with Hermione, the bell rang. Neville threw his potion ingredients into his bag and booked it. Only halfway across the great hall toward the marble staircase did he remember that he had left his cauldron full of potion in the classroom.

//Snape's not going to be happy about that one. Detention, you think?//

//I don't care. At this point, I'll be doing detentions for him halfway into the summer.//

//But, I don't think they can make you stay in the summer.//

//Believe me, if Snape could find a way, he would. And Gran might not argue with him, either. I can hear her, "If the professor thinks it would be beneficial to your education, Neville Longbottom, you will stay at that school as long as he says. You should thank him for this opportunity for your improvement." Wouldn't that be awful?//

//You know she means well.//

At this point, Neville realized he hadn't been paying any attention whatsoever to where he was going, and was now in a completely unfamiliar corridor. H sank down with his back to the wall.

//I can't even find my way around this place, and I've been walking this same route after Potions for five years!//

//Well, Snape was particularly rough on you today.//

//It's not just being scared by Snape, I did the same thing last week after Charms, and if I've ever been scared by Professor Flitwick I'll transfigure myself into a mandrake right now.//

//Well, it's no use just sitting here. You might as well get up and try to find your way back. You don't want Filch finding you, I'm sure he'll have some reason you're not supposed to be here.//

Neville got up, heaved his bag over his shoulder, and started walking.

//No, no, I'm pretty sure it's the other way.//

//Fine. I'll just follow you, since I know nothing. _Neville, Neville, he knows nothing, for his head is full of stuffing._ I heard a Slytherin second year reciting that to one of her friends. Would you like to hear the rest?//

//Oh, give it up. You can't possibly take a Slytherin second year seriously?//

//But everyone knows it, even if they don't say it.//

//Neville Longbottom, you stop that this intant!//

//Oh God, you sound like Gran.//

//Shut up! You are not worthless, or stupid, or friendless. You are very good at Herbology, and a good and loyal friend. Hell, how many other people can truly say that they're _friends_ with Harry Potter? Not bloody many! So stop moping for yourself.//

Neville had reached the portrait hole, and stared at it blankly for a moment.

//The password…//

//Right, the password! Ummm… Boomer-something, no… Burnt beets, no… I can't remember.//

//Oh, come on. You can't even… //

//Bouncing balls, no that's not it either. Damn!//

"Butterbeer," said a voice, and the portrait swung open. Ron turned his head as he started to climb through and noticed Neville standing there, mouth slightly agape. "What are you doing out here?"

"Just thinking."

************

Sam Davidson


End file.
